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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744544">Way Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondTheClouds777/pseuds/BeyondTheClouds777'>BeyondTheClouds777</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh and Zuko's relationship makes me want to cry, Late Night Conversations, More comfort than hurt, POV Iroh (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko Gets a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:28:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondTheClouds777/pseuds/BeyondTheClouds777</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Time and time again, Zuko finds solace in Iroh's embrace.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iroh &amp; Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>616</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Way Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is early, too early, when Iroh is awoken to the creak of his chamber door. </p><p>But, he hadn’t been truly asleep before that anyway, drifting the shoreline between consciousness and unconsciousness. Years of front-line duty and living on the edge have made it hard to get a full night’s sleep on his best days, and these past few weeks—almost worse now that he’s off the battlefield—have been most difficult of all.</p><p>The door creaking open doesn’t wake him so much as it draws his attention, and he pushes himself upright to peer into the darkness at a small, familiar silhouette. </p><p>“Zuko?”</p><p>His nephew shrinks back against the door, his small, pale hands still wrapped around the knob. The boy’s complexion has been poor lately, colorless and drained and exhausted, but Iroh hadn’t noticed just how bad it’s become.</p><p>“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—Did I wake you?” Zuko asks, his voice small. Iroh can sense his guilt a mile away, guilt no child of his age should feel just for seeking out family in the middle of the night.</p><p>“Not at all, Nephew,” Iroh answers with a small smile, and hopes Zuko can’t see just how <em> hard </em>it is, how unnatural and wrong it feels after all that has happened and all he couldn’t keep from happening. “On the contrary, it’s always good to see you. What are you doing up this time of night?”</p><p>Zuko shuffles inside when Iroh doesn’t tell him off, but has to be beckoned with a hand and another smile before he draws any closer. “I—” Zuko starts, before stopping short and turning his head down and away, hands curling into fists at either of his sides. “It’s—It’s dumb.”</p><p>“Certainly not,” Iroh says, “if it’s troubling you.” Maybe Iroh had been a bit too blind to it before—or maybe he just wasn’t looking nearly close <em> enough— </em>but Zuko has already been hurt so detrimental by Iroh’s brother, Zuko’s own father, and Iroh doesn’t want to imagine what it would fester into if left unchecked. “I promise.”</p><p>“But it’s weak.”</p><p>“Is it?”</p><p>Zuko stares at him like he’d hung the stars. Iroh pats the spot next to him on the bed and, after a moment of hesitation just a bit longer than Iroh would have hoped, Zuko clambers up next to him and leans into his side. Iroh hadn’t been able to tell (or maybe Zuko is already that good at hiding it, which—he tucks that thought away for now, but will not forget it), but he’s trembling.</p><p>“You don’t have to talk about it if you would rather just rest here,” Iroh says, “but I’m here to listen if you do. Either way, I want you to know that it isn’t weakness.”</p><p>Zuko stays quiet and Iroh lets the time pass, his arm settled around his nephew’s shoulders and Zuko tucked close (safe) against his side. It’s a quiet night, so still it’s unnatural; the war was just as much a part of Iroh's childhood as was comparing heights with his younger brother. It had never been this quiet, this still. </p><p>“I miss Mom. And Lu Ten.” Zuko’s knees dig into Iroh’s side, but instead of pushing him back, Iroh draws him closer. “I miss them, a-a lot.”</p><p>The sheltered void in Iroh’s heart expands again, and it’s a void he can no longer keep at bay. He thinks about hiding it, about waiting for when Zuko is asleep, or when the sun shines and Zuko isn’t burdened with his own thoughts in the stillness of night—but they’re both hurting, and Zuko hasn’t hid that from him. Iroh won’t hide it from him, either.</p><p>“I know,” he murmurs, wrapping his other arm around Zuko to further envelop him. Zuko melts into the touch with a soft sob and Iroh’s chest constricts just a little more. “I miss them, too.”</p><p>Zuko scrubs at his eyes. “C—Can I stay here tonight?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Zuko hugs him back. Iroh doesn’t let him go until sunlights splits over the mountains, and obligation pulls them from each other’s arms.</p><hr/><p>The war has been over for two weeks. The quiet and stillness of the palace isn’t a foreboding calm before the storm, but rather, the first true tranquility the nation—and by extension, the world—has felt for a hundred years. It’s one of the first truly restful, deep sleeps he’s had for as long as he can remember.</p><p>Which is why, when he opens his eyes in the middle of the night to a stillness as deep as when he fell asleep, he doesn’t understand. He’s tried to slow down in more recent years, but even so, his instincts are sharp from war and loss, and something he can’t place doesn’t feel right. </p><p>Sitting up, he scans the room, his inner flame already thrumming beneath his skin <em> just in case. </em>The war is over, but the palace has been anything but peaceful: already there have been attempts to take Zuko’s life, and while that doesn’t seem to be the case tonight, they can’t afford to take any chances.</p><p>His eyes land on an abnormality in a room full of shadows, but his eyes need no further adjustment.</p><p>“Zuko?” Iroh slips out of bed, his feet meeting the cold hardwood floor as he crosses the room. “Nephew, what are you—”</p><p>Zuko is curled in the space where the two walls converge into a corner, knees against his chest, cloak pulled around his shoulders, and he’s fast asleep. Iroh lets his voice trail off and his feet come to a standstill before him, and he waits to be sure Zuko is still asleep before kneeling down. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Zuko sleep this soundly—perhaps he never has. The lines of his face have smoothed out and his hair is down and bedraggled, breaths deep and even. He’s already too young to be Fire Lord in such a time as this, guiding a nation that’d led bloodshed and hatred for a hundred years into an era of restoration and healing, but he seems even younger now. Life has dealt him a heavy hand; to see all of that temporarily loosened eases the remaining tension in Iroh’s shoulders.</p><p>But, he is on the floor, in a position that’s going to bite him in the knees tomorrow. Iroh settles a hand on Zuko’s shoulder and shakes.</p><p>“Zuko. Nephew, wake up.”</p><p>Zuko wakes slowly—another welcomed change—and blinks at Iroh several times before recognition settles in. “I fell asleep.”</p><p>Iroh nods. “Seems like you needed it.” He sits back, and Zuko presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “And I’m sure there are more comfortable places to do it than here.”</p><p>“Probably.” Zuko lowers his hands, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “Sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”</p><p>“No, but it would have been alright if you did.” Iroh gestures to the space beside Zuko. “May I join you?”</p><p>Zuko blinks at him (golden eyes, bright like Ozai’s with darker flecks, like his mother’s), but he nods, pressing himself further into the wall as Iroh moves to sit beside him.</p><p>“What brings you here this time of night?” Iroh asks. “Here, of all places?”</p><p>Zuko leans back, straightening his legs out in front of him. “Habit? I don’t know, I didn’t know where else to go so I sort of, wandered here.”</p><p>That makes sense. Zuko had become something of an insomniac ever since his mother disappeared; it wasn’t unusual for him to find his way to Iroh’s quarters, though he was much younger and less discreet about it then. Now he was quiet enough that Iroh didn’t hear him come in.</p><p>“Sorry,” Zuko says when he doesn’t reply. “I don’t mean to keep you awake, I can leave—”</p><p>“No, it’s alright,” Iroh says. “I’ve been meaning to find the time to talk to you, actually, but you’ve been in such high demand lately.”</p><p>Zuko’s sigh is breathless and he shuts his eyes. “Tell me about it.” A pause, before he levels his head and meets Iroh’s gaze. “Wait, what did you want to talk to me about?”</p><p>“That depends on whether or not you have anything you would like to get off your chest.”</p><p>Zuko blinks again, very hard. Iroh doesn’t know if it’s his sleeplessness to blame or his puzzlement. The silence stretches, and after another long moment, Zuko hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“The colonies. In the Earth Kingdom.” (Iroh nods.) “We need to evacuate and rehome those citizens here instead, but there are a lot of them, and we only have so much space but more than that, they all have their own lives in the colonies, their own families and livelihoods and I… I have to uproot all of that. And it isn’t—it isn’t <em> just </em> that, that’s just part of the bigger issue of—” He stops, inhaling and exhaling shakily. “It’s been a hundred years. I’m trying to undo a <em> hundred years </em>worth of war and massacre and hurt.” </p><p>“You can’t undo anything,” Iroh says. “And you mustn’t talk yourself into thinking you can. All you can do is move forward and build all that <em> you </em>can, and our nation—all the nations—will begin to heal with it.”</p><p>“There has to be something else I can do,” Zuko says, the smallest hint of desperation finally seeping into his voice. “The Southern Water Tribe—I owe it to Katara and Sokka to help them rebuild, too, and Ba Sing Se is practically in ruins, and—”</p><p>“Zuko,” Iroh rests a hand on his shoulder and Zuko whips around to look at him, “you are sixteen years old. Your father, your grandfather, your great-grandfather… you’ve never had footsteps to follow, only footsteps to bury. Even someone of proper age would struggle under the weight you’re carrying. In these times, I couldn’t imagine there being a better Fire Lord.”</p><p>He feels the tension melt from Zuko’s shoulders, and he leans into Iroh just a little, like he did when he was years younger and his future looked far bleeker. “Thanks.” But then the moment ends, and the gravity weighs deeper in his golden eyes. “There’s also the assassination attempts.”</p><p>Iroh’s chest hardens. “Yes. The assassination attempts are… concerning, to say the least.”</p><p>“Yeah. I mean,” Zuko runs a hand through his hair, “what happens if someone actually manages to <em> do it? </em>The nation’s morale is already so fragile—if someone usurps me and takes the throne, and they’re confident enough in their ideals to sway the military, then—”</p><p>“Zuko, those concerns aren’t invalid, but I was thinking more of <em> your </em>well-being.”</p><p>The panic ebbs from Zuko’s eyes, replaced by realization. “... Oh.” His voice is small. “I… I don’t <em> like </em>it, but Ozai and Azula tried to kill me a lot, too. I’d rather it be strangers than my family.”</p><p>That… That hurts. And Zuko must see something on Iroh’s face, because he rushes on with, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—”</p><p>“It isn’t <em> you </em> that’s upset me, Zuko,” Iroh says. “I assure you, you haven’t upset me. I’m upset <em> for </em>you.”</p><p>Zuko has done nothing but fight and struggle his entire life for things he never have had to, and beyond that, he brought the first taste of peace and compassion to a nation detrimentally starved of it for a hundred years. Yet there are those who demand Ozai’s prison release; demand Ozai reclaim the throne; demand they will not be ruled by a child. The opinion is not a popular one, but it’s out there. And now that Zuko is coming out of yet another assassination attempt, it isn’t something they can afford to take lightly.</p><p>Zuko relaxes again, sinking back into the wall. “I guess I have been more on-edge lately.”</p><p>“I don’t blame you,” Iroh says. “No one does.”</p><p>Zuko swallows and turns away, resting the back of his head against the wall. “Do… Do you think it’s going to be like this forever, Uncle? They’re—” At this, Zuko makes an odd sound—a broken sound, half between a sob and a choke. “They’re my people, <em> my </em> people, and I <em> love </em> them and they’re so— <em> lost. </em>And I don’t know how to prove to them that I have their best interest at heart.”</p><p>“You’re never going to be able to prove that to everyone,” Iroh says. “Some people would rather stay blind than face the depth of their deception. And as for the rest of them, the people who genuinely believe in all Ozai stood for are going to scoff at his opposite, no matter what you do.”</p><p>“But, what if it <em> is </em> just because I’m not doing enough?” Zuko runs his hands through his hair again, and it sticks up at odd angles when he finally lets go. “I mean, they’re not wrong to say I’m too young for the throne, and I <em> don’t </em>have any experience dealing with this, what if—”</p><p>“Zuko, listen to me.” Iroh brings his other hand to Zuko’s opposite shoulder and Zuko twists around to face him, eyes wide and searching. “Since your coronation, you have done nothing but your best to restore balance between our nation and the world. You’ve poured more of yourself into healing these wounds than any other Fire Lord I’ve seen come and go, and things <em> will </em>get easier. I promise. You’re doing more than enough.”</p><p>Zuko gives him that look again, that look like Iroh aligned the planets, and Iroh smiles and squeezes his shoulders. Eventually—unpracticed, tired but relieved—Zuko smiles back. </p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Of course,” Iroh murmurs, reaching up to tuck some of Zuko’s hair behind his ear, and Zuko’s eyes close against the touch. “You look tired.”</p><p>Zuko exhales shakily. “I am.” There’s too much weight in his tone to only be physical exhaustion, but that’s something that only time and rest can ease. Iroh squeezes his shoulders again.</p><p>“Then you should sleep.”</p><p>“I will,” Zuko says, “but, I… I need this right now. All I’ve been doing these past two weeks is negotiating, I need—” He stops, catching his breath and letting it out slowly. Beneath Iroh’s hands, Zuko’s shoulders slump. “I need to just. Sit.”</p><p>Iroh nods. “I understand. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”</p><p>“Thank you, Uncle.”</p><p>The silence dwells between them again. </p><p>“Your hair has gotten longer,” Iroh observes.</p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Zuko runs his hand through it again like he didn’t know it was there. “It’s almost as long now as it was before—” He stares at his hand, then sighs. “Before.”</p><p>Iroh hums, just to let him know he understands. “Do you want to grow it out?”</p><p>“I mean, that’s sort of what’s happening right now,” Zuko says, hand falling to his lap. “I know in the past, traditionally, the Fire Lord has long hair, but I’m…” Again, he trails off, though it’s less now that he’s come to a realization and more that he doesn’t know how to voice one he’s had for a long time. “... I’m just not sure.”</p><p>There’s a lot left unsaid, a lot that doesn’t need to be voiced because Iroh already knows him so well. He brushes Zuko’s hair out of his face and waits for Zuko to meet his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t think you need to worry about looking like Ozai,” Iroh assures him. “All these years, I’ve watched you grow into the person you are now. In the midst of all the strife and heartache, you were able to find yourself, and build on what you found until you became who you are today. If anything at all, growing your hair out, coupled with your heart and your spirit, you’ll resemble your mother.”</p><p>The look on his face is priceless, something Iroh knows he’ll treasure for the rest of time, and when Zuko hugs him he expects it, and returns the embrace. The tightness in Zuko’s frame is gone entirely now as he presses his face into Iroh’s shoulder, and Iroh cups the back of his head to hold him close.</p>
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